The base was under attack. This was nothing new, of course. Frontier base Alpha 3, known as "The Grinder" to those who'd been stationed there, had been under attack for about three years now, Jimmy reckoned. The bugs threw themselves mindlessly at the defenses - automated now, thank God - and were crushed, shot, impaled and incinerated in their thousands. Still they came. An ocean of rage and mandibles.
Jimmy had long since grown used to the acrid stench of burnt flesh and chitinous plating, but the screams still kept him awake most night.